


Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

by useyourtelescope



Category: Ted Lasso (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29377287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourtelescope/pseuds/useyourtelescope
Summary: Rebecca and Sam get locked in the conference room.
Relationships: Rebecca Welton/Sam Obisanya
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/gifts).



“Sam, I am so sorry,” Rebecca said again, still mortified at their predicament. 

His easy smile didn’t falter, reassuring her that she didn’t need to apologise. “In fact, I should be apologising to you. If I hadn’t asked you to help me, then you wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Rebecca shook her head, countering, “I should have remembered we just updated the internal doors to automatic locks.” Ted would have informed all the players of course, but she had more reason to remember the change, given she had been the one to sign off on it. The installation had finished over the weekend, but Rebecca hadn’t given much thought to it the last few days, not having stayed late enough to still be in the building when they became active. 

On her way out tonight though she’d heard Sam’s solitary voice carrying down the hall and curiosity had caused her to divert her path to the conference room. He’d turned out to be practising to film his first endorsement tomorrow and when he had complimented her public speaking and asked if she wouldn’t mind hearing him run through it all with that smile of his, she had found herself putting her bag down and taking a seat in the front row without really thinking about it.

They wouldn’t have had any problems if she had left promptly after that run through. It wasn’t as if he had needed much advice in the end; Rebecca had found the script he’d been given rather average, but Sam’s delivery had been clear and full of sincerity for the cause he was championing—a refreshing change from the many branding campaigns for alcohol or trainers she’d witnessed over the years. However, he’d joined her on the front row after and they had somehow found themselves talking until the locks had clicked into place, rudely pulling Rebecca out of their comfortable conversation. Sam didn’t seem put out by their current situation though. “Perhaps we should agree that we are both sorry, and say no more of it, Miss Welton.”

After nodding in agreement, she racked her brains for what they had started talking about after the endorsement but ultimately drew a blank. She settled on asking, “Did you have anything exciting planned for tonight?” She had seen him texting while she had been making calls to find out how soon someone could free them. Apparently paying for such a sophisticated security system meant it took a very long time to override. 

“Not in comparison.”

Rebecca laughed. “To being stuck in a conference room?”

“I was thinking more about the company,” he said so smoothly that Rebecca couldn’t help but remind herself of the many years she had spent around football players, most so easy with their smiles. There was a sweetness to Sam’s that felt different—but she shouldn’t be thinking like that. 

Even if she ignored how unprofessional it would be to start something with one of her players—which she wasn’t inclined to do since no one else would—there was also the fact that he was far too young for her. She would have to draw the line, no matter how sweetly he gazed at her.

Her laugh cracked slightly this time. “Sam,” she said seriously.

“Miss Welton,” he returned, mirroring her look but with a lighter tone.

Somehow his continued use of formality gave her a strange sensation in her stomach, and it took her a moment to recognise it as butterflies. “You should call me Rebecca,” she found herself saying, thinking that would break some of the tension.

But when he acknowledged her request and said, “Rebecca,” she realised that was a mistake. 

She turned her head so she looked back at the table in front of them, trying to recall the worst press conferences she had attended here—surely thinking about the viperish press would distract her from Sam’s warmth in the increasingly cold room. 

She was sure that he had been further away when he had first sat down to join her on the front row—when had he moved to the seat next to her?

But then she recalled that she had stood up at one point, in her frustration with the people at the other end of the phone. Had she been the one to take the empty seat next to him when she sat down again? 

She blinked the thought away. “They said they would call me as soon as they got here,” she said, businesslike. 

Sam nodded. “But they think it will be at least two hours before they can fix it?”

“Yes. Plenty of time for you to practice your lines,” she added.

He laughed and it lit up his entire face. “Oh, I think I’m feeling good about the lines now.”

“Is that right?”

“There is such a thing as over practising, you know? Even in football.”

“Yes, I have heard that.” She smiled, one hand running up her arm.

“Are you cold?” he asked, turning in towards her almost instinctively. 

“No,” she said, out of habit. But after a moment, she nodded slightly, turning to mirror him. “Perhaps a little, I suppose.”

“We should stay close then,” Sam said. 

“Yes, that’s—sensible.” Rebecca looked into Sam’s eyes, thinking some decidedly unsensible thoughts.

“Is this too close?” he asked politely.

She shook her head, her hair brushing against his arm, which at some point had fallen to the back of her chair. “No, this is fine. Nice,” she added, absently. She hadn’t noticed she had continued to turn towards him until her knees bumped into his.

His face was now very close to hers, but he didn’t move any closer. She realised he was studying her, waiting to see what she would do. 

“We sh—“ she began but stopped herself from saying they _shouldn’t_. That sounded worse somehow. She settled on, “This can’t go anywhere.”

Sam’s smile was understanding. “I know. But we can enjoy the next two hours,” he suggested. 

“Yes,” she said, feeling lighter suddenly. There was a sparkle in her eyes when Rebecca added, “At least.” And then she lifted a hand to his smooth cheek and closed the distance between them. 


End file.
